


It's Six O'Clock in the Morning, You're Not Having Vodka

by anidalah



Series: Kim's Life is Strange Drabble Compilation [2]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, drabble challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anidalah/pseuds/anidalah
Summary: After a stressful night, Nathan gets comfort from the only person he feels cares about him.





	It's Six O'Clock in the Morning, You're Not Having Vodka

Nathan had been awake all night and everything was still red.  His father, that fucking asshole, had verbally reamed him yet again.  He didn’t even remember what he’d done to cause it, if he’d even done anything to spark another one of his father’s far too long lectures about being groomed to take over the family business.  He needed to do this, that, and the other thing.

Meanwhile, no one ever fucking asked Nathan what he wanted to do.  Like he wanted to take over his father’s piece of shit business.  He was a photographer, god damn it.  An artist.  He was working every day, most days along Mark Jefferson, to help him come to his full potential and find his own style, his own voice.  He didn’t need some fucking real estate mogul crap to get in the way of what really mattered.

It was damn near five in the morning when Nathan cracked and called up Mark.  He’d been holding out for hours, using weed to pass the time and try to calm himself down because those meds never fucking worked.  Again, no one listened to him about that, but whatthefuckever.  He felt like an ass, waking Mark up at that ungodly hour, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see him, the only person who really loved and cared about him.

Of course Jefferson was aggravated when Nathan called, because only the birds and psychopaths like Madsen and that weird Samuel guy would be up at that hour.  Still, he answered Nathan’s call on the third ring. Still, he agreed to meet Nathan in the dark room after he got dressed and grabbed some coffee.

As such, Nathan arrived at the dark room long before Jefferson did.  He paced, fidgeted, even tried to do exercises his therapist told him to do when he got like that.  A grounding exercise.  Four things you can see: the printer, Kelly’s binder, the computer, the light.  Three things you can hear: Well shit, his heart beat? His own erratic breathing?  The tap, tap, tap of his foot?  Did those count?  Two things you can feel: His heart beating out of his chest, and cold. He always felt cold.  One thing you can smell: Bleach.  That place was always sterile as fuck.

And the exercise barely helped.  He needed something else, a downer to put in his system to maybe slow it down. Obviously, that dank bud wasn’t going to do shit anymore.

It was then that Nathan heard the door open, Jefferson obviously entering the Dark room. Normally, he’d be happy, do to great the man he’d grown to love so much.  He was busy, though, in the middle of trying to calm his nerves.

Jefferson rounded the corner.  His hair was disheveled, his shirt only half buttoned and not neatly tucked in like it normally would be.  He held a large cup of Dutch Bros. coffee in his hand.  He stopped in the archway that connected the storage room to the Dark Room.

“Nathan, what are you doing?”

“What the fuck does it _look_ like I’m doing?”

Mark sighed, setting his coffee down on the computer desk before walking over to Nathan by the couch.

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

Nathan didn’t respond, instead just continuing to pour vodka into the tumbler on the table.  It was then that Mark grabbed the bottle and the glass.  Really, he was _not_ going to allow Nathan to drink vodka at six o’clock in the God damn morning, especially not on a school day. When Nathan realized that, his gaze narrowed on Mark.

“Give me the vodka, Mark.” Nathan tried to sound intimidating, trying to make his voice as deep and powerful as he could but he knew it was pointless.  After all, Mark had a surprising amount of muscle from hauling all that camera equipment and moving the girls they took pictures of around.  And Nathan, he was all bark and no bite when it came to Mark Jefferson.

He might’ve had no problem throwing his weight around at the school, but he could never do that to the man he loved.

“Did you take your meds today?”

Nathan growled, “This isn’t about _that_ , Mark!”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”  Mark honestly had no idea.  Nathan said very little on the phone, just that he was sorry but he needed to see him. It could’ve been anything, really. So much shit was flung at Nathan on a daily basis, not to mention his mental illnesses, his father, and being out and gay in high school.

It was all that Nathan needed to hear.  He just wanted someone to ask if he was okay, ask about his day, and actually care about what he said.  What he loved about Mark was that he listened.  He’d cradle Nathan in his arms and rub his back, run his hands through Nathan’s hair.  He’d say such nice things to Nathan, like that he was talented and smart and that one day things would be okay.  Even if things were never okay, at least he had Mark.

As the pair sat on the couch, Nathan crying into Marks shirt while sweet words were whispered in his ear, Nathan thought that was all that he needed.


End file.
